


I Could Be Your Bad Boy

by Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)



Series: Why talk when you can fuck, a love story [1]
Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bottom Tony Stark, Captain America & Iron Man: One Night in Madripoor, Dom Tony Stark, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, French so bad the Académie Française put a hit out on me, Getting Together, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Non-traditional Information Gathering, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Sub Steve Rogers, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26280640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/pseuds/Sadisticsparkle
Summary: Steve needs information.Batroc has that information. His only request? A blowjob.Thank God Steve's good pal Tony Stark is mission control and can give very, very good instructions.
Relationships: Georges Batroc/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Why talk when you can fuck, a love story [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921021
Comments: 31
Kudos: 91





	1. When the night is coming

**Author's Note:**

> An alternate take on how Madripoor went down because all 616 Steve/Tony writers have to write one of this. Also yes, the French is terrible and taken verbatim from some canon appearances of Batroc.
> 
> Some notes on the dubcon at the end!

As he rushed through the rooftops, Madripoor became a blur of neon lights, rain, and last night’s despair. Steve always felt like an outsider in the city, but Tony… Tony looked right at home in the grime of the world’s shadiest island. And when he acted like a heartless billionaire tangled in a web of underworld connections, he stopped looking like the man Steve knew.

But that side of Tony also had its advantages — it was the only reason Steve had gotten intel on Batroc’s whereabouts. He slowed down and crouched: the mercenary’s hotel was right across the street. A faded stout mansion, maybe not as fancy as the one Tony had chosen for Steve and himself, but it wasn’t bad either. The good news was that it boasted a balcony for each room. Steve counted them — three up, two left. Yes. That was the one. There were no lights on. Maybe Batroc was out; after all, Madripoor offered a lot for a man like him.

Steve leaped across the street and landed with a thud that was louder than advisable but there were no noises inside the room. Being careful now, he slid the window open and stepped into the hotel room. Even with no lights on, Steve could tell it was tasteful but bland. No visible computer or phone. He’d have to do a thorough search.

The bathroom door lit up in the darkness and an unctuous voice greeted him. ‘Bonsoir, mon capitain.’

_Steve. Get out._

Tony’s voice made him flinch. Right. Sub-vocal mics, which meant that Batroc couldn’t hear what Tony said. They were a weird gizmo, but the nanohornet following him was even weirder. But it meant that Tony knew exactly what was going in the room, so Steve had to appreciate the genius of it.

‘Batroc,’ Steve said and turned to face the mercenary. Batroc was wearing only pajama pants. His broad, hairy chest was still wet from his shower.

‘What brings you here at this hour? Is it… how do you call it in America…? Ah, a booty call!’

‘I’m after information,’ Steve said. He wasn’t in the mood to indulge Batroc’s brand of banter.

‘Oh.’ Batroc smiled and sat down on his bed. ‘That is très boring, mon ami.’

_Tell him we’ll make it worth his while._

Steve took a step forward, leaving a chain of muddy footprints on the rug. Batroc would have to pay for the damage but Steve didn’t feel too guilty about it. ‘Doesn’t have to be. I’ll make it worth your while.’

_How much do you think he’ll ask for? I can wire him the money. Make it untraceable if he wants to avoid taxes._

‘Oh, is that true, mon capitain?’

Something shifted in the atmosphere as Batroc let his legs fall open. The outline of his cock made the fact that he wasn’t wearing any underwear clear.

Very clear.

‘Do you have the information?’ Steve said, keeping his tone business-like.

 _I’d almost say he’s hitting on you._. Tony’s laughter was low and rumbling, almost as if he was laughing right next to Steve’s ear.

‘Yes. If you’re unwilling to pay what I’m asking for,’ Batroc said, hooking a thumb under his waistband and leaving it there. ‘I have two words for you — Harvester Protocol.’

_Fuck. Steve, you gotta get the information out of him. No matter what. The Harvester protocol… it could disrupt technology worldwide. Disrupt it and steal it. Imagine if they got a hold on… my armor or anything like that. It’d mean chaos. Millions of lives lost._

‘What’s your price?’

Batroc rubbed his chin, with all the stereotypical theatricals he enjoyed so much. ‘You.’

_What? Steve, get out, now._

All he had to do was say _Jarvis_ and Tony would come to his rescue. But the Harvester Protocol — he had to get the intel. He could play along for a while. He wasn’t usually the one playing honeypot, but it couldn’t be so hard.

_Just say the words, Steve. Armor’s ready. All you have to do is ask._

‘What do you want? A duel?’

Tony snorted. _If you’re going to be this dumb, at least be honest about it. You know what he wants._

Batroc tapped his mouth with his index finger. ‘Hm, I wonder. What are you offering, Captain?’

_You’re the worst honey pot I’ve ever seen. If you’re gonna do this, get closer. Be seductive._

Tony was right. He had to commit; he was Captain America and he feared nothing. He bit the inside of his cheek and closed the distance that separated him from Batroc. He had to get the information, no matter what. That was his job, so he leaned forward towards Batroc’s face. The lights coming in from the streets were enough to see the smirk on Batroc’s mouth and the wet spot on the front of his pajamas. Steve’s pulse got faster as Batroc cupped his face with one of his burly hands. His thumb ran across Steve’s jaw and Steve froze. He… he didn’t know what to do.

_Hell no. That’s not happening. Go to your knees._

Yes. That could work. Tony’s breath hitched when Steve let himself fall to his knees with a loud thud. At least the rug was thick and lush.

‘Oh, you go fast. You are not letting me seduce you as you deserve,’ Batroc whispered. ‘I’d go so slow like only the French can.’

_What? He’s gonna fuck you like one of his French girls? That’s all talk. He can’t wait — look at how hard his. Don’t stand there, do something._

Do something? Steve glanced over his shoulder, but Tony wasn’t there. Steve was alone, kneeling in front of a hard dick and feeling lost.

_Oh, okay. Lick your lips._

Steve gave the barest hint of a nod before doing as he was told. Batroc’s eyes went wider, but then Steve waited for further instructions.

_So… this is how we’re… Okay. Okay. Now, nuzzle his crotch. Show you mean business._

The silk pajamas were cold to the touch but beneath the soft fabric, Batroc’s cock was pure heat. When Steve closed his eyes, the sharp scent of pre-come and sweat made it very clear this was real. This was happening.

Outside, the rain kept pouring down on the streets.

_No._

Steve flinched when Tony’s voice came through the mic like a knife.

_Look up. Make eye contact. Ask him if this is enough._

‘If I do this… you… will you tell me who you’re working for?’

‘Oui, on my honoir.’

_If you trust him to do that… Remember — I can get you out. You don’t have to do this._

‘Oh, that’s nice,’ Batroc said when Steve shook his head against Batroc’s crotch. Tony had to stop playing around. When Steve said he was going to do something, he meant it.

_Okay. Okay. Whatever. Take his cock out. Don’t break eye contact. Make it personal._

Batroc’s cock was thicker than Steve had expected. A patch of dark curly hair went up to Batroc’s navel. His abdomen was pure firm muscle and the skin shined with sweat. Madripoor was always hot that time of the year… was he really thinking about the weather?

_Are you regretting it now?_

Steve said nothing. He wasn’t regretting it. Not at all.

_Right, you never regret anything. Then, stop teasing and pull the foreskin back and lick around that… ridge at the base of the head. Just once._

His heart pounded on his chest, but Steve had never backed down from a challenge. Never.

He stayed still.

_You can do it. I know you can. Put his hand around it first and pull the foreskin. Gently. Just like you’d touch yourself._

Yes. Batroc’s cock was uncut, like Steve’s. So he knew what he had to do. He brushed the tip with his tongue and then licked around the base of the head like Tony had told him. Batroc shivered.

_You can do better. Suck on it. Start at the tip._

When he started doing what Tony had said, Batroc put his hand on Steve’s head.

‘Oh. Your hair is wet,’ he said. ‘You’re all wet.’

Batroc pushed the bridge of his foot against Steve’s dick. He rocked his hips against it, enjoying the painful pressure.

_Oh, you like that. Good to know. But don’t stop now. Make him believe there’s nothing you love more than sucking cock. Moan. Squeeze his thighs. Slobber all over his big dick.._

Steve felt a surge of pride when he heard Tony’s voice. He was doing good. That was what mattered.

_Time to… go for it. Relax. Show him how good of a cocksucker you are. You’re dying for this, aren’t you?_

As Steve relaxed his jaw and let Batroc push into his mouth, breathing got harder and harder. But he kept rubbing the underside of Batroc’s cock with his tongue anyway. Spit dribbled down his chin and all he could taste was come.

_Hey, don’t rush it. Be patient. Don’t choke on it._

It was almost as if Tony was there, with his warm hands on Steve’s shoulders or his arms around his waist, making sure Steve was okay. That Steve was safe. He closed his eyes and pictured Tony’s beard scratching against his neck or burning between his thighs. Then Batroc put his hand on Steve’s nape and pushed down as his hips pushed forward. He didn’t stop until his cock hit the back of Steve’s throat and Steve’s nose got buried in Batroc’s pubic hair.

This was too much. He was drooling and his shirt scraped against his nipples and his cock strained against his pants and he didn’t know what else to do.

_Don’t panic. Breathe through your nose. You can do this. You were made for this._

Focusing on Tony’s familiar voice, Steve forced his breath to slow down and his throat to relax.

_You’re hard. Okay. Just… don’t touch yourself. Not yet. Finish the job first._

His face reddened with shame and tears prickled his eyes. He had gotten hard and Tony knew. Tony knew. He shut his eyes. The job. The mission. He had to make Batroc come. Tony had said so.

_He… he has to believe that you love this… Rut against his legs. Like the slut you are._

A whine escaped his mouth as he rubbed his crotch against Batroc’s steely shin.

‘That desperate? I never imagined you could look like this.’

_He… he lacks an imagination then._

That startled a laugh out of Steve so he almost choked on Batroc’s cock.

‘Ah, pardon, I am being most impolite.’

Batroc pulled out his dick from Steve’s mouth. Steve swiped the spit off his chin with the back of his hand and swallowed the rest. His jaw was sore and he couldn’t talk, not yet. Batroc didn’t care — his big hand already covered his cock and he was stroking it, slowly.

‘Stay put,’ he said with a sardonic smile. Steve sat back on his heels. The room was hazy, even Batroc felt far away. All that mattered was Tony’s slow, steady breathing coming through the mic.

He was startled out of the dizzy haziness that had taken over his mind by Batroc’s hot stream of come striking his face. It dripped down his cheek, sticky and uncomfortable, and brought him back to his body. His jaw throbbed with pain, sweat pooled under his armpits, and, worst of all, his dick was so hard it hurt. He didn’t take his eyes off the floor and his fingers dug into his thighs. Sucking Batroc’s cock was one thing, doing it while Tony watched was… How could he face him again?

 _That’s… Did you like it that much?_ Tony said and Steve’s hands loosened. It was okay. Tony had been there every step of the way reassuring Steve, his voice a low-pitched caress.

‘Ah, I can help with that, mon capitain.’

Steve looked up and bit his bottom lip. Was he supposed to let Batroc touch him? Even after what had happened, it was too much for him.

_No. Tell him you want him to watch._

Tony to the rescue again, giving Steve an out Steve didn’t know he needed. Without looking up at Batroc, he shook his head.

‘I… I want you to watch,’ he said, taking his cock out of his pants.

_Give him a show. I know you want to. Raise up your shirt._

If he followed Tony’s instructions, everything would be alright. Every nerve on his skin flared up as the fabric slid up his chest. He took a deep breath and waited for Tony’s voice to come back.

_Good. You’re so good. Don’t stop now. Just do as you’re told and you’ll come. You want to come, don’t you, Winghead? So first, rub your nipples._

He closed his eyes when the faint, ticklish sensation made him moan. How did Tony know how much he liked the coarse feeling of calloused fingers on his nipples?

 _Oh, I can do one better._ Tony’s small laugh made Steve smile. _Pinch them, Steve._

He heaved with the pain and his hips bucked. He needed to come, soon. Why didn’t Tony let him come?

_Liked that, didn’t you? Don’t stop playing with your nipples but… Free hand around your balls. Rub… them…_

Tony’s line faltered, but Steve didn’t stop because Tony had said no stopping and because he was floating on the ache in his nipples and the soreness on his knees and the warmth of his hand surrounding his balls.

_S-sorry. Oh, your hand… good… you did me proud… Now… Twist them. Make it hurt._

Steve slowed down, not sure.

_Don’t hold back. Trust me._

Yes. He trusted Tony. He had been so good to Steve that night, telling him what to do, and everything had felt so good, so he squeezed his hand. The pain blinded him and then orgasm surged through his body, drawing a strangled gasp from his throat. Steve came all over the rug, making a mess on Batroc’s feet.

Tony’s channel went silent. Why? Was he angry? But Steve had… he had done well at the mission.

Right. The mission. He had a mission — the intel. Now that he had done… his part, Batroc would have to hold his side of the deal. He focused on the AC droning on and the red light flickering from the TV until his breathing was normal, but even then his muscles stayed sluggish, and his brain didn’t shake off the fog of orgasm and pleasure.

Still, he looked up at Batroc.

‘So?’ he said and flinched when he realized how raspy he sounded. ‘Who hired you?’

‘Ah, très bien, I did give my word. ‘ Batroc laid back on the bed and put his hands behind his head. ‘C’est AIM. Bah, MODOK.’

MODOK. Those were bad news but Steve couldn’t concentrate — Batroc hadn’t closed his legs, so his cock laid limp against his thigh right at Steve’s eye level. Steve looked down and tugged his cock back into his pants so fast he scraped the front. MODOK. AIM. That was the priority.

‘What’s the plan?’

‘Oh, that’ll cost you a date.’

Without a word, Steve stood up in one fluent elegant movement, crossed his arms, and stared down at Batroc.

‘Mon capitain, your frown is much less impressive when your face is covered in my come,’ Batroc said and threw his head back, laughing.

His laughter chased Steve out of the room and into the bathroom. The light was still on so he closed his eyes and turned on the water. The water was scalding hot but it didn’t matter, he wanted to be clean fast. He grabbed the hotel soap and rubbed his face clean. It hurt, so he put his forehead against the mirror. The cold glass was comforting and his hands gripped the edge of the sink. Slowly, his stomach began to settle.

That’s when he heard the click of Tony’s channel turning back on. _A date? Like hell you’re going to do this again._ Steve hugged himself. Tony was still there and he didn’t sound angry, just tired. In his mind, he could see Tony’s open, satisfied _after a mission_ smile.

_Come on, soldier. Finish this — get back into the room, get the information, and get out. I’ve already ordered room service. I don’t want it to get cold and it’s too much for me, so a Super Soldier would come in handy._

Steve’s fingers let go of the sink. Right. He had to finish this. With one last glance at the mirror — face still reddish, but presentable —, he left the bathroom and strode back into the room. Batroc was standing up close to the window, wearing a gaudy gold-and-red robe. Not really his colors, but Steve had always liked the combination.

He walked closer, with sure steps. ‘The intel. Now.’

‘Oh, well, if you’re going to be like this, mon ami.’ Batroc sighed as if he was starring at the Paris Opera before continuing. ‘ _Demain_ , at the expo. We were supposed to steal the Harvester, me and the Brigade, but…’

‘You won’t?’

‘They paid me a lot of money, but this… this was worth a lot more than that,’ Batroc said and brought his hand to Steve’s nape. Steve shivered.

_Nope. No kisses. Step away._

A wave of relief hit Steve when he put his hand on Batroc’s chest and pushed him away. ‘ _And_ you know that you stand no chance against Iron Man and me.’

‘Oh, Stark is here?’ Batroc said. ‘No chance then of a second date, then.’

Steve said nothing as he stepped out to the balcony and climbed onto the railing.

‘Adieu, mon capitain. I cannot wait until our next rendezvous.’

'I can't say the same.'

He didn’t look back before jumping down to the streets. Rain fell on him, washing away the last of his shame. Even if the storm raged on across the city, Tony was waiting for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No consent issues this time around, just bad communication!
> 
> Thanks fujurpreux for the beta!

On the laptop screen, a blinking dot was cutting across the map. Tony put his finger on top of it and followed it through alleys, street markets, and avenues. He sighed and leaned back on the bed. Who was he kidding? Staring at it wouldn’t make Steve’s steady march towards their hotel room any slower. Nothing short of a terrorist attack or a bank robbery or a kitty trapped in a tree would because Steve wasn’t the type to get stalled checking out the local cuisine or the local strippers. But then again, Tony used to think that Steve wasn’t the type to suck cock. Maybe Steve would surprise him again when he found Tony laying in a pool of his own come.

Not Tony’s finest moment but also not the first time he had let his dick do the thinking and had ruined something he cared about in the process. It was just like him, ruining things with Steve _again_. Steve, who was three blocks away and inching closer and closer. 

Time to stop moping. First, check with room service. Then, shower, so Steve wouldn’t realize what had happened. After a quick call to reception — yes, it’d be done in fifteen minutes, but did he really want all that food? —, he slammed the laptop closed and set it down on the bed.

After kicking his soiled clothes under the bed and grabbing a change of clothes, he walked to the bathroom. The room was nothing to write home about — two double beds, tasteful beige decor, good soft sheets — but the bathroom was worth the price tag. A soaking tub he wouldn’t get to enjoy, double sinks, and a vast walk-in shower. He lost himself to the pleasure of water at the perfect temperature undoing the knots on his back.

Then he heard the room’s click open. He stood still — everybody knew Tony Stark was in town and there was always the possibility of unsavory characters paying a visit.

‘Tony? Is that you in the…?’

Oh, just Steve then. Right outside the bathroom door. ‘Who else could it be? Want to…?’ _Join me._ Nope. He couldn’t say that, not with the terrifying possibility of Steve taking him up on his offer. Was he still… dirty? Did Steve smell like Batroc now? No. He wouldn’t think about that. ‘… call reception and ask them for an ETA on room service?’ 

‘Sure. Whatever you want, Tony.’

The hints of loose haziness in Steve’s voice made Tony’s cock twitch. 

He turned on the cold water.

When he got out of the bathroom, Steve was hunched over the small table in the room, demolishing one roasted chicken, three types of curry, four steaks, and seven types of salads without a care in the world.

‘Is it enough? You look really hungry,’ Tony said instead of asking whether Steve always got that hungry after sex.

Steve nodded, several times, but didn’t stop gulping down their dinner. Tony watched his Adam’s apple bob and wondered… no. He had to stop thinking about it. They had the intel and that’s what mattered. Yes. The intel. The mission.

‘So… tomorrow at the weapons expo. What’s the next step?’

Steve wiped his mouth and took a while to reply. ‘We keep it simple. Infiltrate the expo, find the… the Harvester Protocol or whoever’s selling it, secure it, leave. Should be easy with the two of us.’

‘Yeah. We work well together.’

Steve glanced at the window and said nothing. Of course, he didn’t — he never did. This was them, and they never talked about what made them hurt and seek and forgive each other in a merry-go-round of pain because what tied them together felt like barbed wire around their throats. So Tony didn’t say anything either when picked some of the left-over food for his own dinner and kept saying nothing while he ate.

Outside, it was still raining and Steve was dripping onto the carpet.

‘Want a towel?’

‘Don’t know where they are…’

‘I do. Just wait here.’

The one dry towel was on Steve’s bed. It wasn’t surprising Steve had missed it, even considering his usual acute awareness of his surroundings, because Steve still looked out of it. All Tony wanted to do was coddle him, take care of him, make sure he was okay, but he didn’t know how to do that. Before, during the… interview with Batroc, Tony had gone with the flow and Steve had enjoyed every moment. He wanted to forget what had gone down, but Steve’s slow movements, unfocused eyes, and slurred words made it impossible.

‘Found it,’ he said and picked up the unused towel. He ran his hands through it, enjoying the soft fluffiness.

Across the room, Steve stretched out his hand towards Tony. He knew what was supposed to happen now: he’d throw the towel, Steve would dry his hair and then go to sleep. The next morning, they’d wake up and go punch some villains. After that, Tony would go back to a blur of galas, board meetings, and battles and Steve would go back to his own life. Their night in Madripoor would be forgotten, consigned to the heap of memories Steve and Tony never talked about.

In the morning, he’d be okay with that. But now, with Steve still needing him, he had to go with his gut.

‘No. I’ll dry your hair,’ he said, sounding much more sure than he was. He was very good at that.

Steve lowered his eyes to the floor. ‘That… that sounds nice.’

Standing behind Steve, Tony began drying Steve’s hair. His hands were stiff and his movements robotic, but Steve didn’t complain. Instead, he sagged against Tony and hummed some old-fashioned song. It had been ages since Steve had been that vulnerable around him. Maybe never. Maybe back when Steve was just out of the ice and he had no energy left to pretend he wasn’t sad. Maybe back before all their mistakes. They were different people then. Steve’s anger was buried deeper and Tony wasn’t the tired old man staring back at him from the window’s reflection. 

Thank God Steve couldn’t see his face. They made a funny pair: Tony wearing one of his suits, complete with shoes, but with the hair still wet and mussed from the shower; Steve, melted on the chair, face covered and cock… cock hard.

Steve’s cock was hard. _Again_. In the back of his mind, Tony’s spirit of scientific inquiry filed the fact away with the rest of the Super Serum Facts. But at the top of it, Tony’s reckless penchant for endangering his emotional well-being was in charge. Instead of taking off the towel or walking away like a normal person, Tony put his hand around Steve’s throat. Steve didn’t move, but his pulse went up.

‘Calm down,’ Tony said, rubbing circles on Steve’s skin with his thumb. This was the moment where he had to make a smart, responsible decision, but there was no space for that: his mind was filled with the sound of Steve’s raggedy breath and the heat of Steve’s skin. 

He tightened his hand around Steve’s throat, just a bit, and put the other hand on top of Steve’s head.

‘You loved it, didn’t you? You looked like such a cockslut, letting him use you like that, that I had to erase all the footage.' Sadly or mercifully, he couldn’t erase it from his mind: the image of Batroc fucking Steve’s mouth would be in his wet dreams forever. ‘Best mission in a long time, wasn’t it? A chance to indulge your baser, darker desires. Give in. Let people defile the legend.’ 

Steve’s hands curled into fists and Tony braced himself for a punch or a shove, but it didn’t happen. So he tugged the towel down and saw Steve’s face underneath: the eyes closed, the lips parted and the skin flushed. Tony carded his fingers through Steve’s hair and scratched his scalp before jerking his head back and looking down at him.

‘All these years and poor Batroc never realized all he had to do was ask nicely and you’d go down to your knees just like that.’

Steve opened his eyes and his striking gaze was more honest than ever.

‘Batroc wasn’t the one who asked.’

Tony let go of Steve’s hair and turned away from the window. He had goosebumps — was the room that cold?

‘Don’t… don’t move,’ he said.

He had to think. He was already neck-deep in bad decisions, so… it couldn’t get any worse. There was no further damage to be done and if it was all the same, nobody could blame him if he took Steve’s cock out for a ride. Anybody would have done what he did.

So he kicked off his shoes and climbed on top of the bed. The laptop crashed down to the floor. It didn’t matter — it was a piece of shit anyway. What mattered was the lube on his nightstand (a man had to be prepared). When he yanked the drawer open, it crashed on the floor. Tony leaned down the side of the bed and grabbed the small bottle.

‘Are you okay?’ Steve asked and began turning his head to look at him.

‘I said stay still,’ he hissed. ‘And shut up. No talking until I tell you to.’

Steve gave him a slow nod and did as he was told. If it only it were that easy all the time…

Tony turned his attention back to the bottle and as he twisted the cap open, the strangeness of the situation hit him again. Steve was sitting there with a raging boner, Tony wasn’t that far behind and he was grabbing lube and everything was normal, really. Just two superheroes doing their job.

‘What… what are you doing?’ Steve asked, but he didn’t turn to look at him.

‘Wouldn’t you want to know,’ Tony said and laughed when Steve pouted.

He took off his pants and underwear — the room _was_ cold and so was the bed cover, so he shivered when he laid back on the bed. He kicked his clothes off the bed and Steve whimpered when they hit the floor. Tony didn’t pay him any attention: he was busy covering his fingers with lube. Tony had seen Steve’s cock before and he’d need all the help he could get. Once his hands were messy enough, he raised his hips and slid one finger in.

Steve was staring right ahead, perfectly still, so Tony moaned, loud and filthy and overacted. Steve shut his eyes.

‘No. No closing your eyes. You just can’t look. Come on, be brave.’

Steve squeezed his thighs and opened his eyes. ‘Happy now?’

The grumpiness in Steve’s voice was delightful, so Tony pushed in another finger and moaned again.

‘I can’t wait for your cock,’ he said and bucked his hips against his own fingers. He whimpered — it didn’t feel that good, but he wanted to see how Steve would react. Would he break something? Take matters on his own hands?

He looked at Steve again: his cock was straining against his pants and his whole face was red, but his eyes remained open and he was still firmly in place, his whole body a taut wire ready to snap.

How much would he be able to hold on like that? Tony took his cock in his hand. ‘Maybe I’ll just come like this.’

Steve hunched over, but he kept his eyes open and his mouth shut. Oh, he had to take pity on the poor man, so he undid his tie and spread his legs.

‘Come here, Steve.’

Steve scrambled to the bed, tripping over the chair and falling on top of Tony. Tony laughed. It had been a while since he had laughed that much during sex. ‘Somebody’s eager.’

‘You… you… yes.’

‘And very eloquent as well. Maybe you’re more of a man of action…’ he said, putting his hand on Steve’s cheek. Steve leaned into the touch, so Tony took it away and patted him on the chest. ‘Get naked. You have thirty seconds or I won’t let you fuck me.’

Tony had forgotten how numbers and time worked, so he didn’t count. Steve had been quick enough Tony hadn’t grown impatient and now he was gloriously naked. The only thing between them was Tony’s shirt and Tony would fix that.

‘Undo my shirt.’

Steve’s fingers were so clumsy each button took him about a minute. He had the worst case of sex brain Tony had ever seen.

‘Can I…?’

‘What? Rip it off? No. Do as you’re told, Steve.’

Steve frowned and pouted, but Tony wasn’t fooled: his erection hadn’t flagged, not one bit. It took him a while, but as Captain America was nothing if not stubborn, finally Tony’s shirt was open.

‘Good job.’

And then Steve smiled. It was the widest, warmest smile Tony had seen in a long time and it brought him back to happier, more innocent times. He wanted to make Steve smile like that all the time and if the answer to that was kinky, hot, ill-advised sex, well… who was he to deny his duty?

His hands went to his own tie.

‘You… you gonna tie me up?’

‘Wouldn’t that be nice? Would you like it?’

Steve’s blush said it all and Tony was already planning everything in his mind. Every restraint, every fucking machine, every whip, and every way in which he’d make Steve beg for more. But it wasn’t the time nor the place. 

‘Too bad. Not today.’ He instead looped the tie around Steve’s neck and tightened it. The blue of his tie brought up the blue in Steve’s eyes. Yes. Steve needed to wear his clothes more often. ‘It looks good on you. Now, soldier, on your back.’

After Steve did as he was told — promptly, quickly, eagerly —, Tony climbed on top of him and Steve put his hands on his hips. That felt good. Would that leave bruises? Tony liked it when he could see the marks of having made… of having fucked somebody, but…

‘No. Hands off. Wrists crossed, above your head. They stay there no matter what, are we clear?’

The position highlighted every muscle in Steve’s arms and Tony wondered how much could Steve take before his body gave up on him. He’d give everything for a chance to find out how Steve looked pushed past his limits. But that’d be later if there was a ‘later’.

No. There wouldn’t be. There was only ‘now’. He put a hand on Steve’s chest and leaned his weight on it — Steve’s skin was so sweaty it was slippery, but it was leverage enough for Tony to lower himself on Steve’s cock. Steve wiggled his hips, like the impatient bastard he was.

‘Stay still.’ Steve licked his lips and lowered his hips. ‘Eyes open. Look at me fucking myself on your cock.’

Steve’s attention was intoxicating — and that wasn’t an adjective Tony used lightly. This… their gazes connected, his body opening up to Steve, Steve’s cock sliding in and out of him, Steve’s heart racing under his hand, the small quiet sounds coming from Steve’s throat, his chest tightening with need, the burn on his thighs, everything, wasn’t something Tony would be able to give up. And he knew his luck. He’d be forced to.

But soon, Steve’s big dick splitting him apart drew every thought out of his mind and became a spasm of pleasure that shook Tony’s entire body. He gave in to the shivering sensation and then he was coming all over Steve’s broad chest. Maybe he had screamed. He wasn’t sure. Cuddle time now and… wait… Steve hadn’t come. His cock was still hard as a rock inside of Tony.

‘Oh, you were… so…’. Words failed him so he just waved his hands. Whatever. He was sure Steve understood. ‘Wanna come inside me?’

‘Yes. Yes. Please. I’ll do anything.’

‘Shh, calm down, you don’t have to do anything — just let go.’

Steve hadn’t moved… but he was opening and closing his hands.

‘Fine. Grab my hips. You’ve earned it,’ Tony said and rested his forehead on Steve’s chest.

Steve didn’t wait a second before digging his fingers into Tony’s flesh. He arched his back and then warmth spread inside of Tony. Steve let his hands fall to the side of his body. Everything about him said ‘post-coital bliss’: the ‘I just had sex’ smile, the lazy sprawl of his limbs, the way he kept playing with Tony’s tie still around his neck, the soft look in his eyes.

Which meant Tony would have to be the responsible one. First, he took his shirt off. Then… even if Steve was too far gone to care, Tony knew he’d regret it if he woke up with dry come on his chest. So he cleaned Steve up with his shirt and threw it down to the floor.

If Tony were a smart man, he’d kick Steve off the bed and they’d both fall asleep in beds too big and too cold. Whatever they were doing, it’d only lead to mutually assured destruction. He had to stop it, but… Steve was so relaxed, so quiet and vulnerable. Steve never allowed himself these moments. Tony couldn’t take that away from him. They could pretend this wasn’t a one night stand, so he turned his back on Steve, not knowing what to say.

He curled on himself and fixed his eyes on the paintings on the wall: a boat bobbing in the sea, a flower arrangement, something that looked like an old Japanese woodcut print. He counted his breaths and tried to will himself to sleep, but then Steve’s arms surrounded him and he didn’t know what to do, so he did nothing. He laid there, closed his eyes, and let sleep take him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was alone in bed. Perhaps the previous night had just been a wet dream but Tony’s ass was sore, there were bruises on his hips and Steve’s bed hadn’t been slept in. It had happened and Steve wasn’t gone, because he could hear the shower. What was Tony supposed to do? The shower was big enough for two…

No. This wasn’t a murky night in Madripoor. This was a bright morning and bad decisions always tasted like cheap whiskey when the mornings were this bright. And it had been a bad decision: Steve and Tony barely managed to be friends and Tony knew that whenever he added sex to the mix, somebody ended up dead. So no shower sex for him.

Then, instead of compounding his bad decision making by lounging around naked, he put on some clean underwear and a silky robe. They didn’t have much time left in Madripoor (soon they’d go back to their lives where missions debriefs didn’t turn into kinky sex unless you were the X-Men) so he began packing his suitcase. His discarded clothes were all over the room and he had to hunt them down. For a night of wild sex, the damage was negligible: his shirt was a lost cause and his tie was nowhere to be found, but his underwear was dirty but salvageable and his pants were just a bit wrinkled.

After calling for room service because Steve was always hungry in the mornings and that meant he got grumpy, he was out of distractions. Fine. He’d do work then. The laptop was sturdier than it looked like and still worked, so Tony began checking by his email and the news until there was a knock in the door.

Breakfast was pretty varied and abundant, but Tony only drank coffee — he didn’t have an appetite for anything else. Steve came out of the shower only when he smelled food.

‘Thank you for… for the food,’ Steve said when he sat down.

‘I know your needs.’

Fuck. Was everything going to be leaden with innuendo from now on? Steve said nothing, but at least the silence was more of the _breakfast in bed_ kind, instead of _and then a ninja jumped out of an alley and stabbed me in the face_ type of silence.

When he was done with his coffee and with the news — standard slice of natural disasters and political mayhem, with a sprinkling of sheep wearing scarves —, he decided to bring them back to their mission. ‘So… today we kick ass, catch our bad guys and then get back to New York in time for dinner.’

‘Sounds good,’ Steve replied.

‘I’ll go shower and then we can hit the expo. I’ve got you an image inducer, so nobody’s gonna realize it’s you.’

‘Hey, thank you. For…’

Tony closed the bathroom door before he could hear the rest. His shower was a short one: the faster he and Steve were done sharing close quarters, the better. Steve seemed to agree because when Tony got out of the bathroom, he was already packing his suitcase, with precision and speed and perfectly folded clothes.

‘Ah! You’re done already?’ Steve said, flinching. He was completely red and Tony could tell he was clutching something in his hand.

Interesting. How many more secrets was Steve hiding from him? Tony grabbed Steve’s wrist and tried to pry open his hand, but he wasn’t strong enough. 

‘What’s that?’

‘Just… nothing. Nothing important.’

Tony laughed. ‘Steve. I don’t mind it if you buy corny souvenirs.’

He rubbed his thumb on Steve’s wrist and _that_ made Steve open his fist. Tony’s breath hitched: primly folded, there lay Tony’s tie.

Tony stared at it and knew that this was it. He could walk away from whatever this was. Go back to be friends who didn’t fuck. Every now and then, Tony would make a mistake and they’d fight and then they’d be back together again because Tony didn’t know how to stay away from Steve. He could be a reasonable person, for once.

But instead, he covered Steve’s hand with his and closed Steve’s fist.

‘Keep it.’

Steve brought his hand to his chest and nodded. It was okay — Tony could give him this. It wasn’t a kiss or a promise or a confession.

It was just a tie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I'm working on a really self-indulgent sequel. You can subscribe to the series if you want to know when it's posted :)

**Author's Note:**

> Steve gives Batroc a blowjob in exchange for information. Unbeknownst to Batroc, Tony is watching everything and telling Steve what to do. This is terrible kink etiquette.


End file.
